Page 22 of Blood & Claw

7: CUTTHROAT WYND

THE MEN MOVED, forming a circle around Ailsa. She backed up, and her spine hit something hard. A rough timbered wall.

Sweat trickled down between her shoulder blades. This wasn’t good. In just an instant, they had her cornered.

Up close, they reeked of stale ale and sweat. All three were much bigger and broader than she was. One had a flattened nose that looked as if it had been broken more than once. Another scratched at the stubble on his jaw as he eyed her up and down.

The third—the one who’d spoken—smiled. “Looking for someone, are you?”

Ailsa forced her shoulders back, hoping that bluster might save her. “Move aside.”

His smile slid into a grin. “Hear that, lads? The lass thinks she’s giving orders.”

Their laughter echoed through the empty wynd.

Ailsa’s gaze darted past them, measuring the space between their shoulders and the wooden walls on either side. Not enough. They’d penned her in neatly.

She bent then, her hand straying toward the knife in her boot.

“Careful now,” Broken Nose murmured. “You wouldn’t want to do anything foolish.”

Ailsa froze. A moment later, fear vanished so suddenly it felt as though a door had slammed shut inside her.

Her breathing slowed.

The three men sharpened before her eyes.

They weren’t threats any longer, but prey.

Her fingers flexed. She imagined driving her knife beneath the broken-nosed bastard’s jaw and watching his smirk disappear.

The image arrived unbidden, but instead of sickening her, it made her pulse flutter.

“I don’t want trouble.” Her voice, cool and detached, didn’t sound like her own. “Let me pass.”

The thug moved closer. “Oh, we’re not looking for trouble.” His gaze dragged slowly over her body. “Just a bit of fun.”

The other two stepped forward, flanking their friend. Both grinned at her.

“Get away from me,” she growled.

Broken Nose laughed. “Think she’s shy.”

Reaching out, he seized her cloak and yanked her against him.

Ailsa reacted without thinking. She drove her elbow hard into his ribs and twisted free.

The other two surged forward. One grabbed her arm. Another caught a fistful of her hair. Pain ripped across her scalp as he yanked her backward. “Hold her.”

Something snapped inside Ailsa. Her vision tunneled as she kicked wildly, her boot striking someone’s shin. A curse exploded. For an instant, the grip on her hair loosened.

Stooping, she grabbed her knife from her boot—and slashed wildly.

The blade ripped into flesh.

A shout followed as blood welled across Broken Nose’s hand. “You wee bitch.”

A punch slammed into her shoulder, spinning her sideways. She crashed against the wall, breath bursting from her lungs.